Source
Whoever looks for me will find me,
where I usually escape,
in a nest on a tree,
in the shade of a broom.
I am a little microbial,
an earthling, a stranger,
wind and time play,
I celebrate my small world.
My footprints in the earth,
a sigh, a soft echo,
my voice travels among leaves,
my laughter, a bird's song.
I release my sorrows into the air,
clouds carry my dreams,
Whoever looks for me will find me
where the sun bathes my endeavours.